by Dan Parry
Travelling through the dark void of space, the gold exterior surfaces of the lunar module reflected sunrays so brightly that when peering through Columbia's sextant it was sometimes difficult to look for stars.27 Now, gazing through the LM's windows, for the first time Buzz was able to see the command module's polished surface, gleaming brightly in the sunshine. 'I can see the hatch and all the EVA handrails,' he said, 'first time we've seen the silvery outside of the command module.' Aldrin then pointed the camera back inside the LM, where dust and particles of paint floating above the instrument consoles also looked silver as they shimmered in the sunlight. Since the cockpit was not fitted with chairs, Buzz attached cables to clips on his waist to secure himself in position.
Aldrin: 'The restraints in here do a pretty good job of pulling my pants down.'
Duke: 'Roger. We haven't quite got that before the fifty million TV audience, yet.' A few minutes later, looking at Armstrong in the tunnel, Charlie added, 'Neil, at this attitude you look like you're about 12 feet long.'
Armstrong: 'It seems like I always find myself upside-down in whatever I'm doing around here.'
As he took the TV audience on a tour of the cabin, Buzz believed that the LM was in a good condition. He and Neil wouldn't know for certain until a short time before they were ready to begin the landing. As well as looking at the controls, Buzz also checked some of the equipment that would be needed on the Moon. 'We're giving you a picture now of the floor of the cabin,' he told Mission Control. 'I think you can see one of the two portable life-support system backpacks here in the centre, and on each side we have the two helmet visors.'
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Buzz had first discovered he was to walk on the Moon on Monday 6 January 1969, 10 days after the safe return of Apollo 8.28 He and Michael were called into Deke's office, where Neil was already waiting. 'You're it,' Slayton told them. He added it was 'conceivable' that Apollo 11 may be the first mission to attempt a landing, as was to be reflected in their training.29 However, it was also possible that Apollo 9, McDivitt's delayed test-flight of the LM, could be further postponed, which would force NASA to give the landing to Apollo 10 in order to meet the deadline. This would involve an all-out dash for the surface, without first completing a dress rehearsal. Such a bold step would echo the ambitious decision to send Borman to the Moon earlier than planned.
In later years it would be suggested that NASA had carefully hand-picked the crew of Apollo 11, deliberately choosing a civilian commander in order to disassociate itself with the war in Vietnam. But Deke always insisted the men were picked only on the basis that it was their turn to fly next. 'There isn't any big magic selection that goes on for each mission,' he once explained.30 In fact Deke had long hoped that the first man to walk on the Moon would be one of the Mercury Seven. Before the Apollo 1 fire, this had been agreed with headquarters and with Bob Gilruth, the director of the Manned Spacecraft Center. The obvious choice had been Gus Grissom, but after the loss of his close friend Slayton went back to the system of rotation.31
For Deke, the selection process was about the mission as much as about the astronauts. In putting a crew together he looked for three compatible men whose skills complemented one another and who were eligible to fly based on the length of time they had been waiting for a flight. In sending men into space, Slayton took mental stability for granted; gung-ho mavericks, awkward personalities and oddballs likely to reach for the hatch had already been weeded out during the selection process. Believing that all astronauts should be capable of flying any flight, Deke didn't fret about who was best psychologically equipped for any particular role.32 Once he had put a crew together, the names were sent to Gilruth for approval before being passed to headquarters where they were usually rubber-stamped by George Mueller, the head of manned space-flight. The power Deke held over people's careers was extensive. Chris Kraft, for one, thought it was excessive. Kraft wrote that Deke 'seldom had to justify his actions to Gilruth or anyone else'.33
Despite Deke's words of caution about Apollo 11's objective, as Buzz took in the news he was filled with excitement. For the sake of form he knew he had to mask his reaction behind a 'façade of business as usual'.34 Nevertheless he couldn't wait to tell Joan. The Aldrins' washing machine had broken down, and Buzz later remembered that on the way back from the laundrette, 'driving home in a car jammed full of wet laundry, I told my wife I was going to land on the Moon'. He described Joan as becoming 'half hysterical, partly out of pride, but mostly out of fear'.35 Three days later an official announcement named the crew of Apollo 11, and subsequent headlines dubbed them the 'Moon Team'.36 Slayton later told the press that they would be the first crew to concentrate on a landing, and confirmed that the backup crew was to be commanded by Jim Lovell, with Bill Anders training as the CMP and Fred Haise serving as the lunar module pilot.
For Michael Collins, it was the opportunity he feared would never come, and he relished the chance to fly with Neil and Buzz. He had much respect for both men, whom he regarded as 'smart as hell ... competent and experienced'.37 Michael had first met Neil in 1962, when each was attempting to become an astronaut, and at the time he considered Armstrong to have the strongest background of the six civilians hoping to be taken on. The fact that Neil was selected, whereas he himself was not, came as no great surprise to Collins when he took into account their relative levels of test-flight experience. 'I like him,' Michael said later, 'but I don't know what to make of him, or how to get to know him better.'38 He considered that while Neil was patient with 'processes', sometimes he could be impatient with people when they didn't meet his standards.39
When Collins returned to Houston in 1963, he met Aldrin who in later years he considered to be more approachable than the reticent Neil. Indeed, Michael admitted it was actually he who tried to keep Buzz at arm's length. 'I have the feeling that he would probe me for weaknesses, and that makes me uncomfortable,' he wrote.40 For his part, Aldrin admired Neil and Michael but didn't feel especially close to either of them. He later recalled that in 1963 there 'wasn't anything that particularly drew me to Mike'.41 He first met Neil at Ed White's house (possibly in 1964) and later remembered that at the time Neil was roller-skating around the front yard. He discovered him to be 'reserved, deep and thoughtful' and subsequently found that occasionally he could also be stubborn.42
Within the Astronaut Office, all three men were regarded as competent and well suited to the mission. Whether their peers universally considered them to be the best three to do the job is unlikely, given the competitive nature of most astronauts, but Deke had made his decision and no-one was going to change his mind.
For all three men, landing on the Moon was one thing; doing it first was something else. There was no doubt that the later, more adventurous flights would attract considerably less press attention than the tentative first attempt, which would be carried out under international scrutiny.43 Buzz privately discussed with Joan the idea of flying on a different mission, but he knew there was no chance of raising the matter with anyone else. To do so would amount to 'sacrilege', risking the removal of all three men from the mission and seriously prejudicing Aldrin's chances of ever flying again. He felt that 'I was part of the crew and I couldn't let anyone down by my individual concerns'.44 Yet subsequent events suggest this was not the whole story.
Kennedy had called for a man to land on the Moon and then come home again. There had been no mention of anybody shimmying down a ladder, let alone skipping about on the surface scooping up boxes of dust. But it had come to be assumed that at least one man would venture out on to the lunar plain. Initially it was thought that only one member of the crew would leave the spacecraft, following the precedent set during the Gemini programme. However, a number of experiments were being assembled for the first lunar EVA. There would be little time to set them up and it was realised that two men would be needed to complete the work. On this basis, both Neil and Buzz would step on to the surface.
What the press wanted to know, just a day a
fter the crew's names were officially released, was which of them would go first.45 Following the example set by Ed White, the EVA was traditionally performed by the second crewman while the commander flew the spacecraft. Buzz had shown that this strategy was successful and that key objectives could be achieved by the junior man operating on his own. If he were to receive assistance from Neil while on the Moon, then so much the better. Early paperwork showed that Buzz was indeed slated to become the first man to step on to the surface, and the press were advised accordingly. Reporters were told by George Mueller that Aldrin would be first.46
By March, Buzz began to hear on the Houston grapevine that maybe Neil would go first. Aldrin has suggested that his initial reaction to this news was one of puzzlement. But when it appeared that Neil was being considered ahead of Buzz because he was a civilian, Aldrin grew angry. He felt that 'the implication was that the military service was ... some sort of warmonger'; besides, he knew that 'Neil had learned to fly in the service, just as I had'.47 As far as Buzz was concerned there were no differences between them and therefore he had as much right to go first as anyone. As Chris Kraft remembered it, 'Buzz Aldrin desperately wanted that honour and wasn't quiet in letting it be known'.48 Buzz has said that he wanted to take some of the burden off Neil, who would have to cope with leading the EVA in addition to accomplishing the landing. Aldrin recently explained that 'My objective was to try and even out the training workload and follow the precedent that had been set in all space walks up to that time.'49
His frustration about who was to be first was fanned by his father's expectations. The family was already in turmoil. The previous May, Buzz's mother had taken an overdose of sleeping pills. She had done this once before, and it had been considered an accident. This time, she had been found by Gene Aldrin and rushed to hospital. The second time may also have been an accident, but Buzz had his doubts. His maternal grandfather had taken his own life and Buzz was aware his mother no longer had a strong will to live. 'When my mother took her life about a year before my Apollo flight,' he said, 'certainly it was a very sad situation, but there wasn't at that point anything I could really do about it except move on and understand that those things happen.'50 At the family's request the death certificate referred to cardiac arrest, and for years Buzz and his sisters said little about their deeper suspicions.51
In early 1969, Gene Aldrin threw himself into the row over who would be first to walk on the Moon. In a phone-call to his father, Buzz persuaded him not to intervene via high-level friends.52 Slayton wasn't sure the message had got through. 'From the moment Buzz joined NASA,' Deke wrote, 'his old man was trying to pull strings to get him assigned to a flight.' Now, once again he discovered that Aldrin senior had 'got into the act'.53 Buzz himself declared that amid all the distracting gossip and speculation he simply wanted to know who it was going to be.
The problem began to gnaw at him. Buzz mulled it over for a few days but decided that the issue was 'potentially too explosive for even the subtlest manoeuvring'. Then he went directly to Neil.54 Armstrong fudged the issue for a minute or two before coolly telling Buzz he didn't want to rule himself out. Deke had warned Neil about Buzz, and now Armstrong found himself caught up in the kind of political wrangling he had traditionally shied away from. Deke himself told Buzz that it would probably be Neil first since he was the more senior of the two. Armstrong was the commander of the mission and had been in NASA for longer.55 In search of support, Buzz raised the issue with other astronauts, including Michael Collins, who recalled that 'I quickly turned him off. I had enough problems without getting into the middle of that one.'56
Subtle diplomacy was tricky. The alternative was to be direct, but this way of doing things had led to problems with Houston's managers during Buzz's campaign for a Gemini flight, and more recently with Neil. Nevertheless Aldrin decided that being direct was worth the risk, and this time he would go to George Low, the most senior Apollo manager in Houston.
Chapter 8
A TISSUE-PAPER SPACECRAFT
While inspecting the lunar module during the third day of the flight, Buzz picked his way carefully about the cramped cabin. Plumbing and bundles of wiring lay exposed on the floor, and in places the walls were no thicker than a couple of layers of aluminium. Fragile as it was, the LM remains unique in being the world's only manned spacecraft capable of a powered landing, whether on the Moon or anywhere else.1 The Mercury capsule, the Gemini spacecraft, even the Apollo command module were designed simply to fall into water, slowed only by parachutes. The Russians also used parachutes, although their spacecraft came down over land. In touching down on the Moon, which does not have an atmosphere, parachutes would be useless. If the LM were to survive unscathed, a gentle, powered descent was critical.
As he went about his work, Buzz continued to report on what he was doing for the benefit of CapCom Charlie Duke and those watching on television.
Aldrin: 'Like old home week, Charlie, to get back in the LM again.'
Mission Control: 'Roger. Must be some experience. Is Collins going to go in and look around?'
Armstrong: 'We're willing to let him go but he hasn't come up with the price of the ticket yet.'
Mission Control: 'Roger. I'd advise him to keep his hands off the switches.'
Collins: 'If I can get him to keep his hands off my DSKY, it'd be a fair swap.'
The TV broadcast, which NASA regarded as the clearest yet sent from space, lasted a little over an hour and a half.2 During that time Apollo 11 coasted more than 3,000 miles.
Once Buzz returned to the command module, the hatch was closed and the LM was sealed shut once again. The crew then completed a round of their routine chores before sitting down to dinner, accompanied by music. Both Armstrong and Collins had taken selections on cassettes which they listened to on a portable tape recorder; Buzz had decided he would be content with whatever they chose.
Once the spacecraft had been put into a PTC roll, Aldrin looked out at the heavens rotating slowly past the windows. Suddenly, there out in space was an object that was reflecting light and which almost appeared to be shadowing them. After Buzz pointed it out to Neil and Michael the three of them gathered at the windows, each waiting for the object to swing into view as the spacecraft gently rolled on its axis. Buzz got down into the lower equipment bay and took a closer look through the sextant and telescope, but all he could say for certain was that the object sometimes appeared to be L-shaped. As flying objects go it was definitely unidentified. In Buzz's words, they 'sure as hell were not going to talk about it to the ground' for fear of the curiosity and even concern it would raise. Someone might even suggest that the mission should be cancelled since aliens were apparently going along for the ride. 'We didn't want to do anything that gave the UFO nuts any ammunition,' Aldrin later said.3
The crew had already bid goodnight to Houston, but after thinking over his choice of words, Neil contacted Mission Control.
Armstrong: 'Houston, Apollo 11.'
Mission Control: 'Go ahead, 11. Over.'
Armstrong: 'Do you have any idea where the S-IVB [third stage] is with respect to us?'
Mission Control: 'Stand by.'
Mission Control: 'Apollo 11, Houston. The S-IVB is about 6,000 nautical miles from you now. Over.'
Armstrong: 'OK. Thank you.'
With the third stage eliminated, the men began to discuss other possible explanations. Sometimes the mysterious object looked like a hollow cylinder, at other times it resembled two connected rings. 'It certainly seemed to be within our vicinity and of a very sizeable dimension,' Buzz later remembered.4
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When Buzz approached George Low in March, seeking an answer to the 'first out of the hatch' question, Aldrin insisted it would be in the best interest of 'morale and training' if the decision were made quickly.5 Buzz asked whether Neil's civilian status gave him an advantage, but Low told him it was irrelevant.6
Buzz was right in arguing that the matter needed to be settled soon, sinc
e Aldrin and Armstrong had to begin training for the EVA. For the moment they continued to work with the lunar module. Both had served on the backup crew for Apollo 8 and were already familiar with the LM. But the spacecraft's operational performance was largely untested and there was still much to learn. As part of their training, Armstrong and Aldrin occasionally visited Grumman's plant at Bethpage on Long Island, New York, to monitor the development of LM-5, the lunar module they would fly to the Moon.
After winning the $388 million contract to build a lunar lander in November 1962, Grumman quickly came up against a range of formidable problems. Immersed in a multitude of competing demands, the LM was to become one of the most challenging components of the entire Apollo programme. The painstaking search for solutions was led by Tom Kelly, a likeable engineer from New York. Supported by a team of 100 technicians, Kelly had been working on ideas for a lander even before Kennedy had laid down his challenge in 1961. Early on, he realised the vehicle would need to be small and light yet rugged enough to withstand the launch into Earth orbit and the three-day journey through space.
Kelly's work was to be overseen by the Apollo Spacecraft Program Office in Houston. Already the head of the Apollo office, Charles Frick, was embroiled in difficulties over the command module with his counterpart at North American Aviation. When he saw them 'screaming and cursing at each other' Chris Kraft could barely believe it.7 Kraft had heard the relationship was troubled but after shifting his attention from Gemini to the lunar missions, he saw for himself that 'bad vibes from Apollo were everywhere'.8 Kraft found that lessons learned during Gemini were being ignored both inside NASA and beyond. He believed the Apollo office had begun to adopt a stubborn sense of independence, and worse, this was filtering down to North American. Soon he began to suspect Grumman was slipping in the same direction.